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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806975">better than this</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bwhouwant2b/pseuds/iamstillwriting'>iamstillwriting (bwhouwant2b)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kindergarten...it's a whole vibe [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Teacher Evan "Buck" Buckley, eddie diaz bakes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:28:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bwhouwant2b/pseuds/iamstillwriting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie’s had a crappy day, so he bakes. Also, Buck’s hugs are magic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kindergarten...it's a whole vibe [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911817</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>better than this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't know where this came from, honestly. I've never written something this long in one sitting. And this is not what I say down to write. <br/>Still, I hope you enjoy this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun’s just starting to set and the house is silent. Christopher with Pepa because he’d begged to get to go to a sleepover with some cousins, and even if it hadn’t been a crappy shift on the heels of an awful week, Eddie wouldn’t have said no. </p><p>When they’d moved to LA, Eddie had worried that Christopher wouldn’t ever be close to his cousins there. Worried that they’d look at him differently because of his CP. Now it seems silly. None of the kids have ever treated Chris differently. They’ve asked questions, sure, and Chris has happily answered them - just like he always has. </p><p>His phone buzzes with a text notification from its spot on the kitchen counter, but Eddie ignores it. He doesn’t have even the smallest desire to talk to anyone - and he knows it’s not Pepa for or about Christopher because she always calls. </p><p>The ingredients he’d set up on his counter when he’d gotten home silently beckon him. Everything is laid out for the chocolate chips cookies he’s going to make. It’s mindless and familiar and exactly what he needs tonight. </p><p>His phone buzzes again as he’s sifting the flour, but again, Eddie ignores it. It’s Buck or Lena, and they’ll both understand his need to just be for a night. </p><p>He mixes everything together, including a little of cayenne at the end because that hint of spiciness is his favorite thing about this recipe. </p><p>Eddie drops tiredly onto the couch after the dough is safely tucked into the fridge and a timer for 25 minutes is set. </p><p>He tries to force his mind to turn off, force himself not to turn over every single decision he’d made on shift. It’s all too easy to torture himself with what ifs. Most days don’t get to him. Most days, he’s good at leaving the job at work. But sometimes, like today, the failures eat at him. The ones they couldn’t save try to cling to his heart. </p><p>Digging the heel of his hand into his eyes, his frustrated groan fills the silent house. Pushing himself up, Eddie finds himself back in his kitchen. In front of a sink of dirty dishes. </p><p>Eddie knows there’s still at least 15 minutes left on the timer. Which means he has plenty of time to wash the dishes and hopefully lose himself in the repetitive task. </p><p>Everything is sitting in the drain, and the counters are clean when the timer finally goes off. </p><p>Eddie flicks on the oven to preheat while he scoops little dough balls onto the cookie sheet. He has enough cookie dough to make two batches...maybe three if he makes the cookies on the small side. More than enough to share with Pepa, an unspoken and entirely unnecessary thank you to his aunt for taking Christopher for the night. There might even be enough to share with Buck. </p><p>Though his boyfriend has cooked for him plenty of times, he’s never shared anything he’s baked. As he’s setting little balls of dough on the baking mat, he realizes Buck probably doesn’t even know he can. It’s a well known and documented fact that the doesn’t cook well - unless you’re talking about mac and cheese, grilled cheese, and abuela’s chicken noodle soup. </p><p>He’s putting the first batch in the oven when his phone rings. Wiping his fingers on the back of his jeans, he answers without looking, assuming it’s Chris calling to say goodnight. </p><p>But the voice coming through the speaker is Buck’s. He’s only half listening to Buck’s story - something about shaving cream when he cuts the other man off. </p><p>“Can you come over?” He’d been so sure he didn’t want anyone in his space tonight. So sure he needed to be alone to process. But hearing Buck’s deep, calm voice makes him want the other man in his space. </p><p>The line goes silent for a moment before he hears Buck’s agreement. “I can be there in like half-hour?” </p><p>He almost tells Buck he loves him then but catches himself. They haven’t said it yet. And he doesn’t want to say it over the phone just because he’s grateful that Buck can apparently sense when he needs him. </p><p>“See you soon,” he says instead before hanging up. </p><p>When he hears a gentle tapping on his front door a little more than half-hour later, his kitchen smells pleasantly chocolatey, though he can smell a hint of cayenne too. The first two batches of cookies are cooling on the counter, and the last batch is in the oven with just a few minutes left. He feels slightly more at ease than he had even just a half-hour ago. </p><p>When he pulls open his front door, Buck immediately steps into his space, arms wrapped around him like it was second nature. And Eddie didn’t realize how much he’d needed a hug until right now. He melts into Buck’s arms, the tension he hadn’t fully realized he’d been carrying melting away. </p><p>He means to say thank you when he pulls back. “Do you want a cookie?” is what actually leaves his mouth. </p><p>Buck’s brows shoot up his forehead, but after a moment, he nods. </p><p>Taking Buck’s hand, he tugs him through the house and into the kitchen. He glances behind him once, sees the questions on Buck’s face that he doesn’t seem to know how to ask. </p><p>“It’s been a long week. I don’t want to talk about it,” he says as he drops Buck’s hand and continues to the counter to grab two cookies. They’re still warm, so he knows they’ll be perfectly gooey when they bite into them. </p><p>“Sometimes, I bake. It’s....” He starts to explain but realizes he has no idea what to say so he trails off, settling beside Buck at the table and holding the plate out to him instead. </p><p>He smiles slightly when Buck’s eyes widen in surprise when he takes a bite of the cookie. </p><p>“S’good,” Buck mumbles around a mouthful of cookie, surprised. </p><p>Eddie hums softly, offering him the other half of the cookie in his hand, which Buck eagerly takes. </p><p>They sit in silence, Buck’s knee nudging against his. It’s a barely there touch, but it’s appreciated even if Eddie can’t quite bring himself to say that. </p><p>The oven timer going off a few minutes later breaks the comfortable silence, startling both of them slightly. </p><p>He can’t keep himself from trailing his fingers lightly along Buck’s arm when he gets up to get the cookies out, delighting in the faint shiver that runs through the other man at the touch. </p><p>When he turns around, Buck is pushing himself out of his chair.</p><p>“What are you doing?” he asks, confusion coloring his face. </p><p>“I’ll help you put stuff away,” Buck says it like it’s simple. Say it like he doesn’t have questions. Maybe for Buck, it is simple. </p><p>He’s hit with a rush of affection for the other man. It’s not an uncommon feeling. He’d been worried he was falling too quickly. That things were going to crash and burn. But he’s finding that Buck is worth that risk. </p><p>“I love you,” he murmurs, stepping into Buck’s space and wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist.</p><p>He feels Buck stiffen in his arms for a moment before he goes boneless. They haven’t said it before. And maybe he shouldn’t have said it now, but Eddie doesn’t regret it. </p><p>Especially not when he hears Buck soft exhale, his own soft murmur of, “I love you too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You can find me on Tumblr @ <a href="https://rydergrace.tumblr.com/">rydergrace</a>. A lot of Teacher!Buck stuff is posted there - so if you're interested in other stories in this verse, you should check it out.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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